


Legendary V-Men

by ectoviolet



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Multi, X-Men AU - Freeform, X-Men AU Kind Of, mutant AU, superhero au, tags to be added as they become relevant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectoviolet/pseuds/ectoviolet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Legendary V-Men are a famed group of superpowered mutants, sworn defenders of the people of Earth. The tale of their formation is here chronicled for posterity: their origins, exploits, feats of superhumanism and humanity. Everyone, even heroes, start somewhere. Our story starts here. </p><p> </p><p>  <b>Chapter Six</b><br/><i>“So, Shiro tells me you want to be heroes.” <br/>Hunk looked up. The white haired girl was staring at him. “Lance wants to be a hero. I--” <br/>She examined her fingernails. “You just followed him all the way here from a few hundred miles away,” she finished, with a smirk.  </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hunk had always been able to do these things. He had faded memories of sticking his hands into garden soil and watching the plants grow, the leaves budding and unfolding like a time-lapse on National Geographic.

He also remembered the panic in his mothers' eyes when he showed them what he had done.

_ Never tell anyone about this, Joaquin. It isn't safe for you.  _ There were people in the world, he was told, who were afraid of people like him.  _ And fear can be a very dangerous thing.  _ It was easy advice to follow. And he did follow it. Until Lance. 

Lance and his mother moved in down the street the year Hunk started kindergarten. Hunk had watched from his front yard as an unfamiliar car rolled into the driveway a few houses over. The woman driving came around to the side of the car and opened the door--and out tumbled a boy Hunk’s age. Literally tumbled, feet over his head, onto the ground. 

“I’m okay!” the little boy had shouted, springing onto his feet. Hunk was impressed. He must be invincible. They didn’t formally meet until two days later, but Hunk was already fascinated by his new neighbour.

What drew cautious, calculating Hunk to impulsive and extroverted Lance was a mystery, to the uninitiated onlooker. But for Hunk, their friendship was obvious. Lance was exciting. Like Hunk could draw life out of the soil, Lance could do the same for him. Lance pushed Hunk’s limits, and Hunk pulled Lance to Earth. Their friendship was a balancing act, and one that always seemed on-centre. And so, from the moment they met, they were connected. They were friends. Best friends. But there were complications.

“Hey!” Lance grabbed Hunk’s hand. “I bet you I can climb that.” He pointed to a tall, dry tree, so old that the branches were stripped of leaves, even in summer. 

Hunk pulled Lance backward. “You can’t.” He set his jaw, trying his six-years-old, chubby-cheeked hardest to look serious. 

Lance pulled forward. “I so can!” He wriggled his arm from Hunk’s grip and grabbed a low-hanging branch. Before Hunk could try to pull him down, he was already half of the way up the tree. 

“You’re gonna break all your bones and die,” Hunk called, hands cupped around his mouth. 

Lance turned his head and stuck out his tongue. 

Hunk huffed and turned his back. “I’m not gonna watch!”

Lance just laughed. Hunk almost wanted to look-- _ almost.  _ He knew that if he watched, Lance would just boast and show off the way he always did. If Hunk ignored him long enough, he’d just come back down. 

“I’m almost at the top!” Lance crowed. 

“Not looking!” 

“I’m at the top!” 

Hunk turned. He couldn’t help himself. And there Lance was, clinging to the trunk, crouching perched like an owl at the base of one of the uppermost branches. Hunk was nauseous just looking up at him. “Come back down!” 

“Okay.” Lance began to straighten up. Hunk watched; as he slowly picked the next branch to put his feet on--something happened. Hunk didn’t register it. The branch snapped, or Lance’s foot slipped, or he let go or lost his balance or--something. Something happened and Lance was on the ground. He wasn’t moving. Or laughing. Or even crying.  _ Oh no oh no oh no no no no nonononononononono-- _

Hunk threw himself onto his knees, hands hovering over his friend, fingers trembling. He wasn’t thinking. Was barely even feeling. His entire body felt numb, sort of tingly. “Lance.” He wasn’t even sure he was speaking. “Lance, be okay please.” It felt like his voice was coming from somewhere else. 

He didn’t know why he did what he did. He knew, somewhere amongst all the information in his head, that he shouldn’t touch someone if they were badly hurt. He knew he had clumsy, indelicate hands, knew he hurt people without meaning to sometimes. Even knowing that, his hands came to rest on Lance’s still chest. His heartbeat under Hunk’s fingers cut through all the panic; what he felt then was suddenly familiar. The little pull in his palms, the warmth in his stomach--it was like making the flowers bloom. 

And then Lance’s eyes opened. 

Hunk began to cry. He was surprised at himself--somehow he hadn’t already been crying. He curled in on himself, pressed his fists into his eyes, and bawled. 

“Hunk?” Lance’s hand was on his arm. “Hunk, what’s wrong? I’m okay...”

Hunk shook his head. He gasped for air desperately between sobs. The actual severity of the situation was setting in. Lance could have just died. Hunk had just...

“Please stop crying, I’m sorry,” Lance hugged him awkwardly from the side. 

It took Hunk a few long minutes to calm down. It took a few more long minutes to collect all of his thoughts. By then, he was a little worked up again. He’d never done anything like that before--he’d never done anything other than make plants grow. He didn’t know he  _ could  _ do anything else.

Lance was crouched next to him, watching silently and anxiously. 

“Lance?”

Lance started. 

“Lance, can you keep a secret?” 

He nodded. “I’m great at secrets.” 

Hunk swallowed. “You can’t tell anyone about what happened. You falling and me… fixing you.”

Lance nodded again. Then, after a moment of silence, “Not even my mom?”

Hunk tensed. “No. No one, ever ever.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’m not supposed to do it.” Hunk shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not supposed to do that stuff when people can see. Or tell anyone that I can do it.”

Lance nodded.

“If you tell anyone, I’d be in trouble.” 

“Okay. I won’t tell, then.” Lance smiled. 

Hunk let out a relieved sigh. He couldn’t quite return the smile, but he appreciated it all the same. He had broken the most important rule his mothers had given to him. He knew from their warnings what would happen if his secret got out. He was terrified. But if following the rules meant that Lance would be hurt, Hunk knew he’d break them all.  

As they got older, their friendship never seemed to change. Lance got into trouble, Hunk got him out of it. True to his word, Lance never told Hunk’s secret to anybody, or even mentioned it again. It was easy to pretend the incident was forgotten. Hunk, though, didn’t forget it. When Lance pushed things too far, there was always that same panic. It never came to Hunk having to use his powers again, but there were times that were close. For the most part, it was smooth sailing. But then, again, there were complications. 

Hunk was doing his homework at the living room table when Lance burst through the front door, without knocking, as always. 

“I gotta show you something.”

Hunk sighed and closed his pre-algebra textbook. He could tell without looking that Lance had that same goofy grin on his face he always did. The one that meant,  _ we’re about to be in trouble. _ “I politely decline.”

“ _ Hunk,”  _ Lance whined. He threw himself over the back of the couch. “For real, this is important!”

Hunk scowled. “Firmly decline.” 

Lance grabbed Hunk’s shoulder. “Honestly.” He pulled Hunk back, forcing him to make eye contact. He wasn’t smiling. “I have something  _ really  _ important to show you.” 

An uncomfortable feeling settled over Hunk. If Lance was being serious… “Okay. What is it?” 

Lance smiled. “Are your moms home?” 

“Uh, no…?”

“Okay. Okay, come on!” Lance shot upright from where he’d been leaning and rocketed down the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Hunk crawled over the top of the couch and followed cautiously. 

“Bathroom! I’m in the bathroom.” 

Hunk padded down the hallway slowly. When he got to the bathroom, Lance was leaning over the plugged sink, the tap running full blast. 

“Don’t waste water.” Hunk reached to turn off the faucet, but Lance smacked his hand away. 

“It’s not a waste!” Lance bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly growing excited. “You’re gonna  _ lose  _ it when you see, man.”

Hunk raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

When the sink was filled, Lance cut the tap. He turned to Hunk, eyes wide. “Prepare to be bedazzled,” he commanded, in a poor, brassy baritone. Then, he turned back to face the sink.

“I’m prepared,” Hunk said shortly. 

He wasn’t. 

Lance’s hands hovered slightly over the water’s surface. Slowly, with a theatrical flourish, he began to raise them. As if magnetized, the water followed, rippling gently towards his hands. Lance’s face twisted with concentration. Distinct droplets of water came away from the general mass, floating independently around his fingers. Finally, it all splashed back into the sink. He turned to Hunk.

Hunk thought he was going to throw up. “You…”

Lance grinned. “Isn’t it great? It’s like… kinda like you, almost, right? Like that thing you did when we were little.” 

Hunk shook his head slightly. 

Lance frowned. “It’s… not great?” His entire body seemed to deflate, then. “It’s… You’re right. It’s kinda dumb, it’s--” 

Hunk shook his head harder. “Lance, you can’t--you can’t do that anymore, okay?” 

Lance looked up. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have showed me this.” Hunk stepped forward and pulled the plug from the sink drain. “You can’t show anyone else.” 

“Why?”

Hunk thought about what his mothers told him. “It isn’t safe.”

“Why not?” 

“It’s just not, okay?” He didn’t want to tell Lance the stories. He didn’t want Lance to know. Sometimes, he didn’t want to know it himself. “It’s dangerous to be... like that.” 

“Like  _ what,  _ Hunk?” Lance stepped forward. 

He didn’t mean to shout. But he did. “Mutant!” He held his head in his hands, seething with frustration. “We’re mutants, Lance.” 

Lance was silent for a few moments. He reached out and put his hand on Hunk’s arm. “Well… what’s wrong with that?” 

Hunk swallowed thickly. “A lot of things.” He felt himself about to cry. He’d never had a problem crying in front of Lance before, but now he felt strangely ashamed of himself. “Humans don’t want us around. They’re scared of us.”

“Well, what can they do about it?” Lance smiled, but weakly, as if he already knew the answer.

Hunk really didn’t want to have to say it. “Kill us, usually.” 

And thus began the worst of the complications.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Lance jerked away. “I wish you’d stop saying that crap all the time. Why do you hate what you are so much?”  
>  Hunk flinched. “That’s not--that’s not the point, Lance, it doesn’t matter if I like it, they don’t!”_

Lance rested his forehead on the scuffed kitchen table. “I don’t get numbers,”  he groaned. 

Hunk sighed. “Here, let me show you again.” He pulled the notebook toward himself and nudged Lance into an upright position. Carefully, he copied out the equation. “I’ll go a little slower this time.”

Lance dropped his head to the table again. “Hunk, this is  _ pointless.  _ I’m too stupid. Just let me copy yours.” 

“You’re not stupid,” Hunk grunted indignantly, “and I’m not going to let you copy. If you don’t do it yourself, you’ll never learn. And then you’ll fail the exams. And flunk tenth grade.”

Lance moaned dramatically. “Why do you have to be such a good friend and responsible person? I hate you.”

“Love you too, buddy,” said Hunk flatly. “Listen, if you at least try all the questions, I’ll buy you an ice cream.” 

Lance lifted his head and side-eyed Hunk for a long moment. “That’s not going to work on me. I’m not five.” 

“I’ll buy you an ice cream  _ and  _ I’ll get Mama Laci to bring you dessert from the restaurant.” 

Lance set his jaw. Slowly, he reached out for the notebook. “Let me see it.”

Hunk grinned with satisfaction. He pointed to the equation with one finger. “So, first you have to remember the order of operations, right? P-E-D-M-A-S. So you have to do this part first…” 

Lance tried to listen. His leg bounced under the table. His fingers tapped against his thighs. Listen, listen, pay attention… Hunk slid the notebook back over to Lance. Lance winced. He’d zoned out again.

“Now you try one.” Hunk smiled and held out the pencil. 

Lance took it cautiously, as if it was about to bite him. He pulled the textbook a little closer and squinted at the equation, then copied it into his book. He chewed the eraser. Scratched down a few numbers and operations. Punched the numbers into the calculator next to him--the one Hunk didn’t even need to use. Finally, he circled his answer and pushed the notebook away. 

Hunk took a look at it, running his finger over the numbers. He looked up at Lance with a grin. “That’s right!” 

Lance beamed and threw an arm around Hunk’s shoulders. “I knew I kept you around for something!” 

Hunk rolled his eyes and slugged him on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. Now do the next one.” 

Lance sighed and picked up the pencil. “Okay, okay…”

As Lance began to plod his way through the assignment, Hunk checked over his own answers for the third time, just to be safe. Everything looked alright, no visible errors anywhere. He turned his gaze to the side, towards Lance.

One hand was drumming the table rhythmically, the other scribbling out numbers as fast as it could go. He always really leaned into his writing, so his nose practically touched the page. Hunk sometimes wondered if he needed glasses. Lance was deeply focused, eyes trained on the page. Hunk could tell he was really trying. Probably thinking about that ice cream. Hunk felt his pocket--there was a little money in there, at least enough for a couple popsicles at the corner store. They could walk there after Lance finished his homework, and then maybe stop by the restaurant to pester Mama Laci. The ice cream would be nice. With spring quickly turning to summer, the heat was starting to settle over town. This kind of weather was nice--when school was out and Hunk and Lance could go wherever they wanted. Vacation couldn’t come fast enough.

“I’m done,” Lance announced, slamming the textbook shut. “Ice cream, please.” 

Hunk snorted. “You really are five. Let me check your answers.” Lance passed the notebook and he read them over. There were a few mistakes with the calculations--Hunk circled them for later--but the operations were all right. Lance at least knew what he was doing. “Okay, this is pretty good, actually. You got most of them right.”

Lance smiled. “Yeah? I think I get it now.”

“That’s awesome.” Hunk stood up and stretched his back. “Okay, ice cream now?”

Lance shot out of his chair. “Yes, please.”

Lance was already down the driveway by the time Hunk got to the door. That boy was always in a rush. Hunk locked the door behind him and followed, taking his sweet time on purpose. Lance grabbed Hunk’s hand as soon as he was within reach. He pulled him forward, hard.

“Hurry up,” Lance commanded, neglecting to let go. 

“Man. If I knew bribing you would work this well, I’d have started doing it in kindergarten,” Hunk laughed. He picked up the pace a little, keeping by Lance’s side. Lance dropped his hand. “You think if I baked a cake, you could get into Yale?” 

“Ha, ha,” Lance replied humourlessly. “I couldn’t get into Yale if you baked cake for the entire admissions committee. Not if you baked cakes with million-dollar bills inside.” 

“Don’t say that,” Hunk protested. “People get into schools like that on soccer scholarships all the time.” 

Lance punched him on the arm. “Shut up.” 

Hunk frowned. “I’m serious. If you start doing better in class, then--”

“Well, I don’t do better in class,” Lance snapped. He sighed and rolled his shoulders back. “Listen, all I’m saying is I’m not going to any Ivy League or anything. I’m not you.” 

Hunk gave Lance a sideways look. “I’m not going to college.” 

Lance stopped walking. “What?”

“What?” Hunk stopped and turned to fully face him.

“Why not?” Lance furrowed his brow. 

Hunk shrugged. “I dunno. I figure just I’m going to take over the restaurant when my mom retires. College is just kind of a needless expense.” 

“Don’t be dumb.” Lance turned and started walking again. “You’re too smart for that.”

Hunk huffed. “Whatever. What are your plans after school then, Mr Not-Getting-Into-Ivy-League?” He jogged ahead to catch up. 

Lance shrugged. “No idea. Probably give myself up to research or something.” 

It was Hunk’s turn to stop in his tracks. “Don’t say that. Don’t even joke about that, man. It’s not funny.”

Lance turned. “Who says I’m joking? I don’t mean like, letting anyone cut me open or anything, god. Just like, blood tests, aptitude tests, whatever. I read somewhere--” 

“That kind of stuff is dangerous. It’s genetic purists trying to scam us.” Hunk grabbed Lance’s wrist. “I keep telling you, you can’t be reckless with this stuff! Being a...” he lowered his voice “... a mutant isn’t just something people are  _ okay  _ with--”

Lance jerked away. “I wish you’d stop saying that crap all the time. Why do you hate what you are so much?” 

Hunk flinched. “That’s not--that’s not the point, Lance, it doesn’t matter if  _ I  _ like it,  _ they  _ don’t!” He could feel his throat constricting, tears burning behind his eyes. “People die! People like us! Kids like us!”

Lance stared for a long moment. “They can’t kill us all.”

Hunk felt frustration mounting. The tears were already spilling over his cheeks, hot shame washing over him for having this conversation out on the street. They were alone, but so… open. “But they  _ want  _ to!” He shuddered. “Doesn’t that scare you? Just a little bit?!” 

“Of course it does,” Lance answered. “But I don’t want it to run my life.” 

“But it has to! That’s how we survive!” Hunk had had enough. “Listen, I can’t… I can’t talk to you about this right now. Call me when you’re rational.” He turned and started on his way back home. He pretended not to hear Lance cursing under his breath as he walked away.

Hunk managed to keep his dignity for the most part, until he reached his door. He stepped calmly inside, closed the door behind himself, and sank to the floor. Hunk was not a door slammer. He was not a pillow puncher. He was a cryer. He just got himself so… so worked up, sometimes, that it was all he could do. He just had to cry it all out, no matter how long it took. This one took a particularly long time. 

He never really fought with Lance. Not like this. They got mad at each other, they picked at each other--after knowing each other for more than ten years, it was inevitable. But it was never like this. Hunk had never felt so  _ angry  _ at Lance. Or at himself. But… God, was Lance  _ stupid?  _ Hunk shook his head. He knew Lance was smart. He knew Lance should know better than that. But he clearly  _ didn’t  _ and it was so infuriating. It was like he  _ wanted…  _ Hunk couldn’t even bring himself to think about it. He needed to cool down.

Hunk picked himself off the floor and wiped his face. He stretched out his spine, leaning against the wall for support, then slumped over. He dragged himself down the hall to the bathroom. He needed a shower. He turned the faucet on cold, stripped, and stepped in. When the water touched his skin, he thought of Lance. He pushed all of his thoughts away, and focused on feeling nothing. He felt better.

When he got out of the shower, the phone was ringing. He jerked on his shorts and sprinted out into the living room. He fumbled to pick up the receiver, hand getting tangled in the twisted cord. “Hello?” 

“Are you watching TV?” It was Lance.

“Hello to you too,” Hunk grumbled into the phone. 

“Turn on the news right now. Channel six. You really gotta see this,” Lance said. “It’s amazing.” There was a brief silence as Hunk considered just hanging up the phone. “Listen! Listen, Hunk, be mad at me later, just go watch!”

This had better be good. Hunk scrambled for the TV remote and flicked it on. He flipped the channel to the news station Lance was talking about and--

The reporter’s voice blasted into the living room. “--though the bridge seems to have suffered significant structural damage, one of the individuals on the scene seems to be _...”  _

“Hunk, are you seeing this? Are you watching?” Lance’s voice burst through the phone wedged between Hunk’s shoulder and ear. 

“I’m seeing it…” Through his own pulse in his ears, he could hardly hear the news anchors describe the situation.

The shaky helicopter-camera was aimed at a bridge, in a state of duress. Cars were on fire, people were running and screaming… but the first thing that caught Hunk’s eye was a kid who looked about his own age, with dark birthmarks all over his face. Instead of running away from the chaos, he was diving into the thick of it. Right into a flaming car. Hunk watched in horror--what the  _ hell  _ was he doing--but the car door flew open and the kid was dragging someone with him. He just  _ saved some guy’s life.  _

Birthmark kid hoisted the guy over his shoulders and dragged him some distance away, handed him off to some bystander, and then sprinted right back into the fray. That was when Hunk noticed there were other people doing the same. Another guy, this one older...had a glowing purple arm… he was using it to cut away debris from the bridge, car doors… 

“Hunk? Hunk?” Lance shouted.

Hunk practically jumped out of his own skin. “What? What did you say? I missed it.” 

“I said, do you see the little one? The newscasters haven’t even pointed him out yet. He’s doing something weird.” 

Hunk squinted at the screen. Another kid, indeed little, was dodging and weaving through the crowds. Every few metres, he would stop and drop to a crouch. It almost looked like he was looking for something, or someone. 

“Lance, what is this? What’s happening?”

“They don’t know. They’re saying someone bombed the bridge, but all of the witnesses are still there, so no one knows for sure.” 

“And these people…?”

“I think they’re mutants,” Lance said, breathless with excitement, “and I think they’re saving everybody.” 

Hunk stared at the television. It seemed that the bridge was entirely cleared of people now, except for one person. A girl with white hair, standing with her arms outstretched. Suddenly--and Hunk wasn’t quite sure he saw it--a man appeared next to her. The girl didn’t flinch, or seem to respond at all, when he grabbed her by the waist. Then, both of them vanished. And the bridge fell into the river.

Hunk felt his stomach drop out his ass.

Lance’s voice on the other end of the telephone line summed up the feeling quite nicely: “Ho. Lee.  _ Crap _ .” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Lance couldn’t help himself. “What the hell did you just say?” It was the wrong thing to do. It was the wrong thing to say, it was wrong to react, but Lance couldn’t let someone talk like that, use words that hurt not only him, but his friends and his family and half the other kids at this school._

The news report ended with confirmation that all five of the involved parties were now completely absent from the scene. Lance left the news station on in case any new information came out. The adrenaline was rushing through him, and bursting out in the form of words.

“Can you believe that? That girl, oh my  _ god-- _ she was  _ holding up the bridge!”  _ Lance shouted. “She’s gotta be so beefed to be able to do that! If I try to lift more than a bucketful of water I get a headache! Anything that heavy would give me an aneurysm!” 

“Please don’t give yourself an aneurysm.”

“You could probably fix it,” Lance dismissed. “Anyway--man, that was just unbelievable. I’ve been shaking since I turned it on. You should see me right now!” He laughed, waving his quivering hand in front of his face. “Dude, you should come over.” It would be more fun to discuss in person. There was a long pause.  _ Oh, crap.  _ Lance had totally forgotten their argument from earlier. 

“I, uh… I dunno. Maybe.”

Lance recovered quickly from his disappointment. “Come on, my mom’s not home! You know I get lonely. I’m like a hamster.” 

“Do hamsters get lonely?”

“This one does.” 

There was another pause. Then, a long-suffering sigh. “Okay, yeah. I’ll leave a note for my moms and be over in a second.” There was a click as he set the phone back on the hook, then a dial tone.

Lance hung up and let out a breathy laugh. He’d never seen anything like that before. He was pretty sure that no one had seen anything like that before. Mutants saving people. Mutants really making a difference with their powers. It was incredible. Buzzing with excitement, he bounded over to his front door to wait for Hunk outside.

He breathed in the heat of summer and stared up the street at Hunk’s house. His hands naturally found his porch railing, his nails found the places where the paint was peeling up. He picked at the little flakes of paint as he waited. Hunk appeared out of his door, locking it carefully behind him as always, as if anyone would go in and try to steal anything in this neighbourhood. 

Lance waved when Hunk turned toward him. 

Hunk half-jogged down the street. “Did you think I would get lost if you didn’t point me in the right direction?”

“Well, with your navigational sense, maybe.” 

Hunk punched Lance on the shoulder. “Yeah, okay.” 

Lance smiled. Maybe Hunk had taken his advice to be mad later.

As things turned out, it was Lance who was mad later--a few days later--but not at Hunk. 

There was this kid at school, Kevin. He was an asshole. Popular, you could say, but he didn’t have friends so much as sycophants. And for some reason, he took it upon himself to take kids from Lance’s and Hunk’s neighbourhood down a few pegs, as if they weren’t already on the lower rungs of the social ladder.

Lance could usually ignore him. But this time, there was a word out of his mouth that Lance couldn’t ignore. He didn’t even say it  _ to  _ Lance, but that didn’t matter.  _ No one  _ got off using nasty language like that. Especially not some snot-nosed white boy big-fish-in-a-little-pond piece of garbage like Kevin.

Lance couldn’t help himself. “What the  _ hell  _ did you just say?” It was the wrong thing to do. It was the wrong thing to say, it was wrong to react, but Lance couldn’t let someone talk like that, use words that hurt not only him, but his friends and his family and half the other kids at this school. 

Kevin repeated himself.

Lance lunged forward. 

Hunk pulled him back. Like always, Hunk was there to pull him back. “Forget it, Lance. He isn’t worth the fight,” he said, loudly enough to make sure Kevin heard. 

Kevin was unfazed. “We’ll see who’s worth what when McClain pumps my gas.”

Lance tensed. He felt himself fighting against Hunk’s grip. That kid, that kid thought he could… he could just… Lance deflated. He shrugged off Hunk’s hands slowly. “Let’s go.” He had to leave right now. Had to swallow the feeling in his throat, had to blink back the tears that were building in his his eyes. 

“What a freakin’ creep,” Hunk spat as they walked down the hall. He turned to Lance. “You okay?”

Lance forced a smile. “Yeah. Like you said, he’s not worth it.” He pushed all it away. Pushed away the knowledge that he’d lost his last two soccer games. Pushed away the image of his last report card. Pushed away the creeping feeling that maybe Kevin was right. 

The feeling followed Lance into math class. Even with all of Hunk’s tutoring, Lance found himself stuck on the quiz. The numbers floated uselessly on the page, and any comprehension Lance may have had of them flew out the window. He sighed and resigned himself to doodling in the margins, pretending to work until the bell rang. He handed in his quiz with half the answers blank.

“How do you think you did?” Hunk asked. “You said you kinda get it now, right?” He smiled.

Lance smiled back weakly. “Uh, yeah. Like, B-plus material, minimum.” 

Hunk grinned. “Awesome. I knew you could do it.” 

Lance nodded. He knew that he couldn’t. 

When school ended, they met at the doors like they usually did and started on their way home. Lance chewed the inside of his cheek and stayed silent for most of the walk. He nodded and smiled while Hunk talked about something from physics class, pretended he understood half the words his friend was saying, but he was more caught up in his own thoughts.

Hunk stopped at the end of his driveway. “You comin’ in?”

Lance shrugged one shoulder. “I kinda promised my mom I’d clean up,” he lied. He’d rather just be alone for the afternoon. 

“Oh, yeah. Okay. Come over whenever.” Hunk waved and turned away, going up to his door.

Lance continued down the street to his own house. He dropped his backpack on the floor, forgoing homework for now, and turned on the TV. He flicked through the channels aimlessly, and found himself watching the news again. He wasn’t sure why, but since the bridge incident he always seemed to be tuning into the news channel. He supposed it wasn’t very likely that there would be any new information now. The mutants from the incident were probably long gone.

Of course, as things usually seemed to go, Lance was wrong. Just as he was thinking that, a special bulletin flashed across the screen.

The anchorman’s voice boomed out over the cheesy newscast music. “An eyewitness on the scene of the Santa Luc í a bridge collapse managed to capture the following photos of the mutants believed to be involved in the incident. Previous footage left them unidentifiable, but these photographs shed some light on the situation.” 

Lance leaned forward in his seat. He’d actually be seeing the  _ faces  _ of the mutants who had saved lives. Who, in a very short time, had become his personal heroes.

The first picture was the girl, the one who had been holding the bridge. Her expression was pained: brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut, sweat running down her face, white hair sticking damply to her cheeks. Lance remembered his comment from that day:  _ if I tried to lift something that heavy, I’d have an aneurysm.  _ By the look of her, he guessed she was pretty close to one herself. Despite all of that, Lance couldn’t help but think she was extremely beautiful. 

The next picture was a shot of the boy with dark marks all over his face--Lance had assumed they were birthmarks, or maybe dirt or debris from the bridge, but up close they seemed too dark, too purple to be normal birthmarks. The marks also visibly ran down his neck, and over his arms. Lance idly wondered if they were on his entire body. More shocking were his eyes--bright yellow, with no visible pupil. It made Lance a little nervous--you couldn’t tell where he was looking. They also made him look very… intense. In the image, he seemed to be shouting something over his shoulder. In the very corner there was a purplish glow, identifiable as being from the taller guy from the newscast. 

The next picture was  _ of  _ the taller guy, using his arm to cut through a crushed car door. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were focused. He looked strong enough to just  _ pick up  _ the car. Everything about him, every particle of his being seemed to scream  _ cool.  _

Lance bounced his knee and stared, only half-listening to the comments of the news anchor. Now  _ these  _ were people who were going to do something with their lives. If only Lance could… 

Wait. He  _ could,  _ couldn’t he? He was mutant, just like them. He could help people like that, couldn’t he? He wasn’t very strong yet, but he could be strong. Maybe there were mutant gyms or something, where he could work out his powers. Heck, maybe these mutants from the news could tell him where they worked out. 

He laughed at his own inner joke, but then stopped. Maybe they really could help him. Aside from Hunk, they were the only other mutants he’d ever really seen. There were probably a few in town, but, because things were the way they were, no one ever talked about it or used their powers openly. Maybe things were different in cities like Santa Luc í a. Maybe things were better.

Lance practically ran to his bedroom and threw himself under his bed. All the way at the back, against the wall, was a coffee can. He pried off the lid and dumped the cash into his lap. Birthdays, Christmas, babysitting jobs, it was all there. He’d been trying to save for a car, but in the back of his mind he knew he wasn’t even close. He carefully counted it out--then double and triple checked. It was definitely enough for a bus ticket. Maybe even two bus tickets. He chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. This would take a lot of arm-twisting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Lance took a deep breath. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you. You have… so much going for you. You’re smart, and you’re talented, and if you went for it you could do pretty much anything you wanted. I don’t have that, okay? All I have going for me is my mutation. It’s the only thing that makes me special. It’s the only thing that gives me a chance to be great.” He paused. Took another deep breath. “Those guys are taking that chance. I… I want in.”_

Lance was all set. He had stuffed a change of clothes, his wallet, and his toothbrush into a backpack. Now it was time for the hard part. He slung his bag over his shoulder and made the very short trek to Hunk’s house.

Hunk opened the door before Lance could reach the knob. “Hi.”

Lance had meant to work up to the hard part, but it all just kind of poured out before he could stop it. “Listen. I know you’re going to be mad, and I know you’re going to hate this idea, but I want you to just hear me out.”

“If this was coming from anyone but you, I would slam the door in your face.” Hunk sighed and stepped aside. “Come in.” 

Lance walked in nervously. It was strange--he’d never been just about anything but comfortable in Hunk’s house before. 

Hunk closed the door behind him. “So, what is it this time?” 

“Do you remember those mutants on TV?” 

Hunk stiffened. “I don’t like where this is going.” 

“Listen! I just…” Lance clenched his fists at his side. “Hunk, other than you, I’ve never seen anyone like me before.” 

“There’s a reason for that.” 

Lance had to press forward. “But that’s the thing! They didn’t die, no one attacked them, nothing like that! They were doing good things, they were helping people! Nobody can say that’s wrong!” 

Hunk groaned. “People  _ are  _ saying it’s wrong! People are freaking out trying to find them! No matter what we do, we will  _ always  _ be evil to those people!”

Lance felt his stomach twist.  _ No. That can’t be the truth. Not for everybody.  _ “But those people don’t matter! What about--what about the people they saved? Do you think that they think that?”

Hunk sighed. Pressed his hand over his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe they do.” He lifted his head away from his hand. “This isn’t going anywhere. We’ve had this conversation before. What did you come here to talk about?”

Lance felt his backpack weighing him down. He dropped it on the floor. “I want to go to Santa Lucia. I want to try and find them.”

Hunk’s response was instantaneous. “No. Absolutely not. That is the stupidest thing you have ever said.”

Lance didn’t let himself back down. “I asked you to hear me out. Please, hear me out.” 

Hunk waved his hand, looking entirely unamused. “Fine.” 

Lance took a deep breath. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you. You have… so much going for you. You’re smart, and you’re talented, and if you went for it you could do pretty much anything you wanted. I don’t have that, okay? All I have going for me is my mutation. It’s the only thing that makes me special. It’s the only thing that gives me a chance to be great.” He paused. Took another deep breath. “Those guys are taking that chance. I… I want in.” 

Hunk shook his head and turned around. “You are being unbelievable right now. I literally can’t believe you.” 

“I’m serious.” Lance felt his hands shaking. “I’m going to buy a bus ticket and I’m going to go to the city. My mom’s out of town visiting her sister all weekend. If I don’t find any leads, I’ll come back before she even knows I’m gone.” 

Hunk turned back. “You’re actually serious, aren’t you? You’ve been planning this.” 

Lance nodded.

Hunk’s expression morphed quickly from stubborn anger to frightened concern. “You can’t. You can’t do this--what are you even going to do, just run around telling people you’re looking for mutants? You’re going to get killed. You can’t just go to the city alone--”

“I have money for two tickets.” Lance stared at the floor. “That’s why I came here. I don’t want to go alone, and I think--I think it would be good, if you met them…” 

“No. Lance, no.” 

“Please. Don’t make me go alone.” Lance reached out for Hunk’s hand.

Hunk stepped back. “I don’t want you to go at all.” 

“I’m going. With, or without you.” Lance picked up his backpack. “The next bus is in a couple hours.” 

“Don’t be stupid.” 

Lance felt a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. A tightness in his chest. He took a deep breath and slung his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday, okay?” He turned and walked out the door. At first, he thought Hunk might follow him. That dream was dashed when he got to the end of the street. He closed his eyes and held in the tears. He’d just have to go it alone. He’d just have to be enough on his own. 

By the time he reached the bus station, he’d pulled himself together. There was still over an hour until the bus arrived, but he’d rather be early than late. The next bus after this one wouldn’t be until the middle of the night. He bought his ticket and sat down, kicking his bag under his chair. He stared up at the clock on the wall and bounced his leg. 

After about five minutes of clock-watching, he found himself almost wishing he’d brought his homework. At least it would have been something to do. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands. His mind wandered. What if Hunk was right? What if it was a stupid idea? What if he didn’t find the mutants? What if he did find them, and they told him to buzz off? He stared at the floor and steeled his resolve. He’d already bought the ticket. No going back now. Besides, even if he was scared, he didn’t want to go back. He couldn’t go back. Not if going back meant facing the reality that his life was going nowhere. No. He’d have to chase after a different reality. One that would take him where he wanted to be.

He closed his eyes and let his mind drift off to the place it went during math lectures. When he opened his eyes, Hunk was there. Not in Lance’s mind, but literally, right there. In the bus station. 

Lance lazily directed his gaze up at him. He sighed.  “Are you here to yell at me more?” 

“No,” Hunk grunted. He folded his arms in front of his chest.

Lance rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I already bought the ticket. I’m going.”

Hunk nodded miserably. “I know you are.” He sighed heavily and sat down in the chair next to Lance. “I am, too.”

Lance turned. “What?”

Hunk held up a little white slip of paper. A bus ticket. “I’m coming with you.”

Lance lunged forward and wrapped Hunk in a hug. 

“I’m only coming to make sure you don’t get yourself killed,” Hunk wheezed. 

Lance didn’t let up. “That’s okay.”

Hunk squeezed Lance back for a short moment. Then he released him and leaned backward. “Just so you know, you owe me for this.” 

Lance shrugged. “I owe you for a lot of things. One more can’t hurt.” 

Hunk sighed again. “I hope you know this is ridiculous.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Lance replied. “But it’s all I’ve got to work with.” 

The time came to board the bus. Lance and Hunk flashed their tickets to the driver and went to sit down. Lance’s legs were unnaturally folded up. He sighed. The world was not meant for tall people. And unfortunately, it was going to be at least a couple hours to Santa Lucia.

Hunk spent most of the ride staring out the window. Lance let him have that. He knew Hunk was mad. That he didn’t want to be there. In fact, he still wasn’t entirely sure  _ why  _ Hunk was there. To make sure Lance didn’t die, okay, but what was actually so dangerous in Santa Lucia that Hunk could protect him from? Why would Hunk go out of his way to do something he clearly thought was so stupid and dangerous? The questions rolled around in Lance’s head like marbles, knocking back and forth over all his other thoughts with no sign of stopping. He found that for the entire bus ride, he really couldn’t find any answers.

The bus pulled into the Santa Lucia station without Lance getting any peace of mind. He stepped off the bus, with Hunk at his heels, and stretched his back. His spine was awfully cramped from the bus seats.

“So, where now?” Hunk asked. 

Lance opened his mouth. Then he closed his mouth. Then he opened it again. “Uh…”

Hunk’s face fell. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Oh my god.” 

“I didn’t think I’d get this far, okay?” said Lance defensively. 

“Oh my  _ god!”  _

“Okay, okay, calm down. Give me a minute to think, okay?” Lance tapped his fingers against his outer thighs. “Okay, okay. Idea. Great idea, perfect idea. We go to the collapsed bridge and we ask around if anyone knows anything.” 

Hunk closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. Fine. Fine. But first, I need to get some snacks, or I am going to get real unpleasant.” 

Lance nodded. He was starting to feel hungry himself. He made a quick survey of the environment, then pointed across the street. “7-11. Let’s just go there and get… I dunno, gross convenience store food.” 

Hunk nodded. “Gross nachos.”

“Gross nachos,” Lance agreed. He started on his way across the street, knowing Hunk would make good on his promise to be poor company without food. 

“Okay, game plan,” began Hunk as they walked. “I’ll grab snacks, you grab drinks. You know what I like.”

Lance nodded. “Make sure my nachos are extra cheesy.” 

They pushed through the glass doors, prepared to take on the big city 7-11. It was exactly like a small town 7-11, incidentally. It was even about as empty. There was only one guy, at the very back near all the refrigerators. Lance turned and walked toward that section, searching for the shelf that had Pepsi.

As Lance opened the fridge to grab a soda, he glanced at the man standing next to him, studying the label of a Vitamin Water. He looked familiar for some reason, which was weird… 

_ Oh my god.  _ It was him. The guy from the news, with the purple arm! Or, rather, without the purple arm. Where it had been before, there was now an empty space. Lance averted his eyes. It was probably rude to look there. Even without the arm, Lance could tell--it was definitely the same guy. He had the same muscles, that was for sure. And he was  _ even cooler  _ up close. He had such a serious expression! Lance shoved the bottle of soda back into the fridge and slammed it shut. Then he turned on his heel and power-walked back to Hunk. 

“You’re not going to believe this,” he whispered, “but I just found what we came here for.”

Hunk raised an eyebrow. “What’s so unbelievable about Pepsi?” 

“No! Not what we came  _ here  _ for, what we came to the city for!” Lance threw his hands up in the air. “It’s the guy!” 

“The guy…” 

Lance gestured towards the man at the refrigerator. “The guy!” 

“Oh.  _ Oh!”  _ Realization dawned on Hunk’s face. “We should… uh…” He pointed nervously at the door. “Regroup and plan what to do n…”

Lance grabbed Hunk’s hand and started walking toward the back of the store. “We have to talk to him, obviously.”  

“Oh my god, no, Lance, we have to--” 

Lance ground himself to a halt when they were a few feet away from their target. “Uh, excuse me.” 

The man turned. “Oh, sorry.” He moved slightly to the side. “Yeah, I’ve been standing here for a couple minutes,” he laughed awkwardly.

“What? No.” Lance pulled Hunk a little forward, so they equal distance from the man. “We, uh. Need to talk to you.” 

The man’s expression changed. A little nervous, maybe? “Oh… Okay?” He dropped the bottle he’d been studying into the grocery basket dangling from his elbow. 

“You were… You were there, on the bridge a few days ago, right?” 

He stiffened. “I… yes, that… that was me.” 

Lance’s eyes were drawn to little purple sparks of light skittering over the man’s fingers. Again, he averted his gaze. Probably rude to stare. He forced himself to look directly into the other’s eyes.  “I… We… I want to do that. What you were doing, out there. I want to do what you do. I want to be like you.” 

The guy looked shocked. However, he composed himself very quickly. “Listen kid…”

Lance braced himself. Here was the rejection.

“Let’s all pay for our stuff, and we can talk about this outside. This isn’t really the place for this.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Alright, so,” said Shiro’s muffled voice. “We have a bit of a situation.”_  
>  “There are people outside the door,” said another voice, high and accented.   
> “I know. That’s kind of the situation,” Shiro replied. 

Lance dragged Hunk out of the store. He peered in through the window, watching the guy from the news buying what could only be described as an inordinate amount of sports drinks. 

“Dude, what about the nachos?” Hunk whined, grabbing for the door handle.

Lance smacked Hunk’s hand away. “It’d take too long. We gotta talk to this guy, like, now.” 

“But  _ he’s _ buying stuff! I wanna buy stuff.” 

Lance twisted his mouth into a frown. “You can get snacks after _.  _ This is way more important.”

“Fine,” Hunk sighed. “Mr. Bossman, all of a sudden.” 

The guy came out of the store, carrying a plastic bag full of drink bottles. He set the bag at his feet. “Okay, let’s take this from the top. You saw me at the bridge?”

“On the news,” Lance corrected him. “I wasn’t… actually there, or anything.”

The guy nodded slowly. “About… the other thing.”

Lance nodded. “Right. I want--I want to help people, like you did.”

The guy frowned. “I don’t think I can help you with that. It’s--The best advice I can give you right now, is to go home.”

Lance’s heart dropped. “What do you mean?” 

“He means it’s dangerous, Lance,” Hunk cut in.

The guy nodded again. “Me and my friends have been trying to stay low-profile. That thing on the bridge, that wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s safest for everybody if you pretend we never met, okay?” The guy picked up his grocery bag.

Lance felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He grabbed Hunk’s arm and turned to go.

“Unbelievable,” Hunk spat. “Unbe-freakin-lievable. We come all this way, we actually  _ find  _ the guy, and he doesn’t want to talk to us! And I didn’t even get nachos!” 

“All this way?” 

Lance turned. The guy was giving the two of them a strange look. 

“How old are you kids?” 

Lance swallowed. “Uh, fifteen...”

“How far exactly did you come from?”

“Uh…”

“And where are your parents?”

“ _ Uhhhhh… _ ” 

The guy sighed heavily, eyes closed. “Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re going to come with me. You are going to call your parents _.  _ And then you’re going to go home.” 

Hunk raised his hand. “I’m not supposed to go places with strangers.”

Lance punched him on the shoulder.

The guy scowled. “I assume you’re also not supposed to run away from home.” He slid his bag down his arm and reached out his hand. “I’m Shiro.” 

Lance reached out his right hand, getting about halfway before he realized that it was the wrong one. He quickly dropped it to his side and shook with his other hand. “Lance.”

Shiro glanced at Hunk. “And you?”

“Hunk. Hi.” 

Shiro raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Okay. There we go, not strangers anymore.” He turned and started walking. “We’re staying close by here. Won’t be much of a walk.” 

Lance darted forward to fall into step beside him. 

“We?” asked Hunk, coming in from behind.

“My team. You saw us, didn’t you?” Shiro turned to Hunk as he walked.

“Well, yeah,” Hunk replied, “But I guess I didn’t think you were actually all together. Figured it was a bunch of random mutants who just happened to be in the same place at the same time.” 

Shiro shook his head. He was silent for a moment. “What about you kids?” 

Lance looked up. “What about us?”

“Are you mutants?” 

Hunk looked away. 

Lance nodded. He stared at his feet. “Both of us. Hunk doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“Most people don’t.” Shiro shrugged.

Lance chewed his lip.  “Why? What’s--I just don’t get what’s so bad about it.” 

Shiro looked at him, a little sadly. “There’s nothing… bad. It’s more complicated than that. People are afraid of what they can’t control.”

“They  _ should  _ be afraid of us,” Lance snapped. “What I don’t get is why we should be afraid of them!” 

Hunk turned back to the conversation. “Lance,” he began, winding up to have the same old argument. 

Shiro broke in. “Okay.” He nodded towards a building on his right.  “This is where we’re staying.” 

Lance followed his gaze to a not-so-nice-looking hotel. He raised his eyebrows. “Looks… great,” he said, without conviction.

Shiro smiled. “Yeah, well, it’s inconspicuous.” He led the boys inside and down the hall. “You guys, uh… You wait out here for a second. It’s… probably a better idea if I warn everyone that I’m bringing people in.” He dropped his grocery bag and dug his hotel key from his pocket. There was an awkward moment of trying to push in the key card and turn the handle at the same time, but after that moment, the door swung open and he stepped inside with his bag. The door closed behind him.

Lance pressed his ear immediately to the door. 

“Lance, oh my god,” Hunk grumbled, trying to pull him away. Lance stayed pressed to the door, determined to listen in. Hunk sighed and pressed his ear against the door, too.

“Alright, so,” said Shiro’s muffled voice. “We have a bit of a situation.”

“There are people outside the door,” said another voice, high and accented. 

“I know. That’s kind of the situation,” Shiro replied. “Listen, they’re runaways, I ran into them, they know about us, I couldn’t… I couldn’t just leave them, you know?” 

“You absolutely could have done that.” Another, different voice.

Lance made a face. “Rude,” he whispered. 

“Keith, stop,” said Shiro. “They’re just going to hang around here until their parents come get them.” 

Lance shifted nervously. Right. He was going to have to call his mother. His mother who wasn’t home. Hunk looked similarly nervous. In fact, much more nervous; he looked almost ill. 

The door swung open. They both crashed to the floor.

Shiro looked down at them, then over his shoulder. “Allura!” 

“They were listening!” said the same accented voice from before. 

Lance picked himself up and looked at its source: the white-haired psychic girl. He pointed finger-guns in her direction and clicked his tongue. “I’m Lance.” Hunk pushed him back down. 

“Pleased to meet you,” she replied. She was leaning against a bed at the edge of the room, smirking. 

Lance stood up again, glaring at Hunk. “What was that for?” 

Hunk glared back. “For bein’ an idiot.”  

Lance elbowed him, half-smiling. “Okay.” 

Shiro broke from his silent staring. “Okay, uh, good. Introductions. That’s Allura,” he said, gesturing to the girl. She waved. “Uh, that’s Keith,” he pointed to the other side of the room. The boy with the purple markings and yellow eyes was sitting on a metal chair at a table, cleaning a knife. He looked up and grunted, then looked back down. Across from him was--

“Oh, hey, I knew you were part of the bomb squad!” Lance said. It was the little kid, the one who had been dodging and weaving around the crowds. 

“That’s Pidge,” said Shiro. 

Pidge jolted upward, as if shocked. “What? Did someone say my name?” 

Shiro snorted, lifting his hand to his mouth. “We have guests.” 

“Oh… Hi.” Pidge looked back down. Then, back up. “...Who are they?” 

“Uh, that’s Lance,” said Shiro, gesturing, “and that’s, uh… Hunk, right?”

Hunk flushed. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a nickname.”

Pidge shrugged. “I’m in no place to judge.” 

Shiro made a brief scan of the room. “Hey, where’s Coran?” 

“He just left a moment ago,” said Allura. 

“He said we needed ‘real food,’” Keith elaborated, drawing air quotes. “Frankly, I agree. Pidge is going to start eating their research if we wait too much longer.” 

“That is a bald-faced lie,” Pidge grunted, chewing the end of their pencil. 

Shiro turned to Lance and Hunk. “Well, uh, Coran will be back in a few minutes I guess. You can meet him then.”

“He’s our adult supervision,” said Pidge. 

“Right. Speaking of adult supervision,” said Shiro, pointing to the telephone on the table. “Time to call your parents.” 

Lance felt the blood drain from his face. Luckily, Hunk stepped forward. He glanced nervously at the phone and then at the rest of the room. Carefully, he picked it up and slowly began walking to the small closet at the other wall. The cord barely reached, but he made it. He sat down in the closet and shut the door. 

Lance stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. He darted towards the closet and sat on the floor in front of the door to wait for his turn. He was absolutely not eavesdropping, and if he happened to hear what Hunk said, then it was not his fault. 

“Mama?” A pause. “Is Mom there?” Another pause. “No, I need to talk to both of you. Can you put me on speaker?” 

Lance leaned the back of his head against the wall. He missed his mom. She’d been… sad, lately. Distant, a little bit. It worried him. She was spending a lot of weekends with her sister lately, too. 

“Okay, so first, I want you to know I’m okay, so don’t worry, please,” Hunk was saying. “I... I made kind of a bad decision. I’m not at Lance’s like I said. No, I…” Hunk took a slightly shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I left town on the bus. We’re in Santa Lucia.” There was a very, very long pause. It became evident through the door that Hunk was trying not to cry. 

Lance knocked on the door. 

“Who’s there?” 

Lance swallowed. “Let me talk to them.”

“What?” 

“Let me talk to them, please.”

“Lance wants to talk to you. Yeah, he’s here. I’ll put him on.” The door cracked open slightly. Hunk handed the phone out to Lance. Lance looked nervously at the roomful of people, not sure he wanted to have this conversation in front of them. Then again, it wasn’t like he could cram himself into the closet with Hunk.

Lance held the receiver up to his ear. “Please don’t be mad at Hunk. It was my dumb idea and he just came with me because he wanted to make sure I didn’t hurt my dumb self.” He braced himself for scolding. 

“Why would you want to run away?” It was Hunk’s mom, Barb. Her voice wasn’t angry--in fact, she sounded like she was crying, which was way, way worse. Moms should absolutely not cry.

“It wasn’t--I didn’t. It’s. I’m sorry,” Lance mumbled. “I’m really sorry. This was really stupid. I’m stupid.”

Mama Laci spoke up. “You aren’t stupid, Lance, I just don’t understand, why--”

“It’s because I’m like Hunk,” he said. He took a deep breath. “And because I’ve never seen anyone else like us before and I saw people like us on TV. And I just--” his voice cracked. “I wanted it to be okay to be a mutant. I wanted to find people who were mutant and okay with it.” He couldn’t talk about the other reasons. The ones that ate at him, deep inside. The feelings of being just  _ worthless _ that made him want to come here.

Hunk’s moms were crying on the other side of the phone. Lance squirmed uncomfortably, on the verge of tears himself. 

“I, uh… you probably want to talk to Hunk now.” He shoved the phone back into the closet and stood up. Again, he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. 

A man with a moustache walked in the door. He looked at Lance, then at the others. “Is this one new?”

“I have to pee,” Lance announced, dashing off to the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and locked it. His legs crumpled under him and he slid down the door. He rested his head on his knees and choked down a sob. How could he have ever thought he’d be anything but a screw-up? How could he have thought that this time would be different from any of the hundreds of other times Hunk had dug him out of trouble? He grit his teeth and tried to breathe evenly. Tears squeezed out of his eyes despite his efforts.  _ I must really be stupid.  _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“So, Shiro tells me you want to be heroes.”_  
>  Hunk looked up. The white haired girl was staring at him. “Lance wants to be a hero. I--”   
> She examined her fingernails. “You just followed him all the way here from a few hundred miles away,” she finished, with a smirk. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEESH it's been a while. i apologize for the wait. hopefully you can expect semi-regular updating from now on.

“Let me talk to this person who you’re with,” Mama said into the phone. Hunk’s mothers had left their tears behind for the moment and taken on the stability that Hunk so desperately needed from them. 

Hunk ran a hand through his hair. “Mama, I--” 

“Joaquin, give him the phone,  _ please,”  _ she asserted.

Despite the “please,” Hunk knew she wasn’t asking. He took a deep breath, scrubbed his tear-stained face hard with the back of his hand, and pushed the closet door open. “Hey, uh, Shiro?” 

Shiro turned from what appeared to be an invested conversation with the white-haired girl. “Need something?” 

Hunk held up the phone, hand cupped over the mouthpiece. “My moms want to talk to you.” 

Shiro strode across the room and took the phone in his hand. “Hello… Yes… My name is Shiro, and...” He began to pace back and forth a little as he spoke. His voice was remarkably low, making it difficult for Hunk to pick up on what he was saying even though he was right next to him. 

Hunk squirmed, unsure of what to do or where to go. He slowly sidled out of the closet. He approached the younger members of--what had Lance called them?--the bomb squad. “Where, uh,” he began quietly, “where’d Lance go?” 

“Huh?” the smaller one, Pidge, looked up. “Oh. Coran scared him away. He’s peeing.” 

Hunk raised his eyebrows. “Uh?” 

“He’s in the bathroom,” supplied Keith, the older one. “I think he’s crying.”

Hunk nodded. He found it hard to meet Keith’s eyes--and wasn’t totally sure if Keith was looking at  _ him  _ either. “I should… go try to talk to him, then.” 

Keith grunted in response and began cleaning under his fingernails with his knife. 

Hunk wrapped his arms around himself and turned. Why had he even come here? What  _ was  _ it about Lance that could make him act so… so stupid? This was clearly a terrible idea. What was meeting these people even supposed to solve? He didn’t know. He… he hadn’t listened to any of Lance’s reasons. He hadn’t wanted to hear them. But Lance was just… just so…Hunk took a deep breath. Lance was upset and alone right now. Whether or not Hunk was angry at him, it wasn’t cool to just leave him by himself. He strode over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly. 

There was a gasp, then a shuffling. Something knocking over. “Occupied,” Lance called from the other side of the door. 

“It’s me. You okay in there?” 

“I’m taking a crap.” 

Hunk sighed. “Just hurry up.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned around, leaning against the wall. Not only did he feel weird not being able to comfort Lance, he felt weird alone with all these strangers. 

“So, Shiro tells me you want to be heroes.” 

Hunk looked up. The white haired girl was staring at him. “Lance wants to be a hero. I--” 

She examined her fingernails. “You just followed him all the way here from a few hundred miles away,” she finished, with a smirk. 

Hunk scowled. “That’s not...” he trailed off. He wanted to say,  _ that’s not entirely accurate _ … but wasn’t it?

Lance emerged from the bathroom. “Not what?” 

“Not any of your business,” Hunk finished. He immediately regretted it--but only sort of.

Lance scoffed. “Whatever.” 

“Hunk!” Shiro clapped Hunk on the shoulder. “Your mothers want to talk to you again.” 

Hunk took the phone and it to his ear. “Hey, moms.” 

“It’s just me, Hunk,” his Mom replied. “Mama’s getting the car ready. We’ll be there to get you and Lance in a few hours.” 

“Lance, too?” 

“Grace is out of town.” Mom sighed. “She doesn’t need this right now, either. Your mother and I are going to talk to her when she gets home this Monday though, so don’t even let Lance  _ think  _ he’s getting off the hook.” 

“Okay, Mom.” 

“We love you.”

“Love you too.” 

“See you soon, baby.” 

There was a click as his mother hung up the phone. Hunk walked back to where he’d dragged the phone to talk in the closet, and placed the receiver back on the hook. 

Lance tapped his arm. “So how much trouble are we in?” 

Hunk shrugged. “Probably a lot. For now, my moms are just glad we aren’t dead.” 

Lance chewed his lip. It was a habit of his, one Hunk was familiar with seeing. “I’m… really sorry, dude. I didn’t…” He closed his eyes and furrowed his brows. “I just… this was really stupid and you were right and from now on I’m just going to listen to you and stop doing stupid things.” 

Hunk felt his cheeks burning. Lance talking about their argument in front of everybody felt like airing out his dirty laundry. “Okay.” 

Lance opened his eyes. “Okay?” 

Hunk lowered his voice. “Just… can this wait? Please?” 

“Fine. Okay.” Lance took a breath. “Alright.” 

“Who’s hungry?” asked a mustached man, breaking the tension.

“Who’s this?” Hunk asked. He… somehow hadn’t noticed the man’s presence until then. 

“They call me Coran,” he replied, holding out his hand. “Because that’s my name.” He winked. 

Hunk shook his hand awkwardly. Just then, his stomach rumbled.

“Ah, so you  _ are  _ hungry!” 

“Y...yeah, kinda.” Hunk cursed his body for betraying him. 

“I could eat,” Lance added. 

“Good!” Coran replied. “I have sandwiches and apples.” 

“Do you have enough for everybody?” Shiro asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I always buy extra, in case I get hungry again later. I can give up second lunch for these boys, though.” Coran smiled and held out a plastic grocery bag.

“Uh… Thanks.” Hunk reached in and took two apples and two sandwiches, handing one of each to Lance. 

“Sit, eat,” Coran insisted, “everyone!” 

Keith stood up, took an apple from the bag, and went back to his chair, without a word.

Pidge sighed and put down their notebook, practically dragging themself over to the bed.  They sat cross-legged and took a sandwich. “The day you make me eat a fruit is the day I die,” they grunted. Their attention turned to Lance and Hunk. They took a large bite and chewed slowly. “So, you guys are muties, huh?” they asked, through a mouthful of tuna salad and white bread. 

Hunk shoved his sandwich into his mouth to avoid answering. 

“Don’t be so rude, Pidge,” Allura snapped. “Swallow your food.” She paused. “And don’t ask personal questions.” She bit into her ham sandwich daintily. 

Pidge glared, shoved the remainder of their sandwich into their mouth, and chewed loudly. “Anoodeeffen??” they asked. 

“What?” Lance looked up from his sandwich.

Pidge swallowed. “Can you guys do anything? Like, mutation-wise?” 

Hunk turned away, trying to put a physical block between himself and Pidge.

“I can um… I can move water. With my mind,” Lance replied. “It’s kind of...  useless, you know, unless there’s water around.” 

Hunk felt his stomach churn for some reason. 

“Hunk’s really impressive though,” Lance went on. “He… doesn’t use it, but he’s got healing powers.”

“I…” Hunk began, “it’s not just healing powers. I make plants grow.” He didn’t know why he was saying it. It wasn’t like these people needed to know. It was none of their business, and they probably didn’t even care. 

“That’s cool,” Pidge said mildly. “I bet it’s some kind of life-energy manipulation.” They took a swig from a water bottle. 

Hunk turned. “Huh?” 

Pidge swallowed. They brandished their hand, which sparked and crackled. “It’s kind of like… sometimes when you think your powers aren’t connected, they are. I thought I could spark,  _ and  _ control computers. But it’s actually just using the same thing for different stuff. Electrokinesis.” 

Hunk chewed his sandwich thoughtfully. “And you’re saying that, growing plants and healing is the same thing because both of them are manipulation of living things.” That actually made sense.

Lance flitted his eyes back and forth between Pidge and Hunk. “And, uh, my water thing is just water.”

Pidge shrugged. “Probably.” 

There was a sudden  _ thunk  _ from a few feet over. Hunk turned. 

Allura was standing stock-still, her eyes wide, apple rolling at her feet.

“Allura? Whats the matter?” Coran asked, reaching for her arm.

“We have to go.” She shook her head, her expression turning serious. “Someone’s coming. They know we’re here. We have to get out of here,  _ now. _ ”


End file.
